Kaleidoscope
by EscapeToCity
Summary: Life begins anew for Clark in Gotham City. Chapter Four "Obsidian" posted. SLASH.
1. Green

KALEIDOSCOPE

Chapter One: Green

Notes: Alternate Universe. Futurefic. Clark Kent is around age 30 (in Earth years).

Please let me know what you think of this. I'm trying some new things here and would love feedback.

Best regards,

JB at Austin

* * *

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Kent?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Don't be nervous... he's really looking forward to meeting you."

She was around sixty and very attractive; dressed in a stunning black & white business suit. Her hair was gray but styled perfectly.

"How long have you worked here, ma'am?"

Her green eyes twinkled merrily...

"Me? I've been here forever..."

"And him? How long has he been head of the network?"

"It's his network, dear. He's been here from the start. GBS was his first 'child' so to speak."

Clark looked nervously around the plush office. Sleek chrome and cool marble adorned the room. The entire left side was a single window; a thin layer of glass allowing a gorgeous view of Gotham's Diamond District. He chewed on his lip nervously...

"Like I said, young man, you'll be fine. He was very impressed with your tape."

Molly Maynne-Scott had decades of experience with men, illusions, and perceptions. Decades earlier, she'd been a semi-villain named The Harlequin. Never a killer and rarely violent, Molly's crimes revolved around obtaining the attention of the ultimate blond stud of her day- Green Lantern. With mandolin in hand, she used her magic spectacles to cast visions for both the willing and unwilling. She eluded capture for years until her innate honesty got the best of her. Years and years would pass but Molly eventually got her stud as well.

The phone console buzzed twice.

"He's ready for you now, Clark."

"Thank you. Wish me luck."

Molly smiled and the doors to the executive suite slowly slid open. Clark walked cautiously through them—

"Welcome to GBS young man!"

A man rose from the shadowy far end of the office. Clark could tell he was well built, around six-three. Looked to be mid-forties. Thick blond hair and sparkling teeth. Bright azure eyes.

"Mr. Scott?"

_He's beautiful. Stop. Don't think like that Clark. This is about a job._

A hand found his and shook it firmly.

"Alan. Call me Alan."

Clark fidgeted a bit; glancing quickly around the office he saw three pictures; one of Molly and Alan embracing on a beach somewhere. Another had a beautiful green-skinned woman smiling brightly; the last was of a chiseledly handsome guy with dark, brooding eyes. Frowning. Haunting eyes. Amazing facial structure.

_I wonder why he's frowning._

"Alan. Great to meet you. I am so grateful for the opportunity."

_Great cheekbones_.

Alan chuckled warmly...."I'm the one who's grateful, Clark. You come very highly recommended. Ms. Lang was glowing when she described your on-air demeanor."

_Must be genetic...._

"Lana can be a little too exuberant, Mr. Scott—"

_Must be his..._

"Alan."

"—Alan. I've known Lana since we were kids and she never has anything bad to say about anyone."

"Your station publicist knows what she's talking about. Don't knock yourself, Clark. I've seen the tapes. Great reporting, son. Murrow-level work, and believe me, I know quality when I see it. You've got to get before a larger audience."

"Thank you sir, but—"

Alan continued to talk...

"No buts, Clark. I want you here at Gotham Broadcasting. I'm starting a new weekly newsmagazine. I'm calling it 'Kaleidoscope.' The advertisers are all lined up. I've got Perry White doing some outlines. Got Bill Maher & Chris Rock for comic relief. I just need a host."

Clark couldn't believe his ears..."Me?"

"Don't look so surprised, son. You know you're good. You know you're better than being morning "Sunrise" anchor at WLEX."

"They've been good to me at WLEX, sir."

"I know they have but they don't see your potential. Hell, ever since Luthor died that network has squandered talent."

"Lex was...well...he knew how to handle things."

"That he did, my boy."

Alan noticed Clark looking down at the floor. He'd heard the rumours about the CEO and the roving reporter...everyone had. Especially after Lois Thornton wrote her infamous articles in _Newstime._

Clark was frowning

..._He thinks what everyone else thinks...._

Alan was a pretty intuitive guy. He clasped Clark's hand and quickly shifted the subject.

"So let's make this happen, Clark. I'm a man of action. I want you at GBS."

"I might need a day or two to think about it."

"Take three hours. That's time enough for any man to make a decision. Go eat some lunch, have a drink, clear your head and make your choice."

Clark was somewhat taken aback...

"Three hours...?"

Alan was smiling like a Cheshire cat...

"More than enough, Clark."

_Delicious._

Alan pushed a button on his phone—

"Molly?"

"Hold on a sec, hon, I'm on the other line..._we can't wait to see you, Jennie-Lynn. And yes, please try to contact your brother. We're starting to get worried. OK. Love you_."

_Must be their kids_, Clark thought.

"Yes, Alan?"

_The hot one with the eyes. _

"You and I are going to the Iceberg Lounge for lunch. Mr. Kent will be returning this afternoon. Make sure you pencil him in, love."

"Of course, dear. Don't forget Donna's coming by to talk about the network photo shoots this."

"I'm not putting my primetime stars in togas again...she'd better have a new pitch."

Alan looked up to Clark and smiled.

"You will know what to do, son. Every one of us has the willpower to do what we must to succeed. Remember that."

* * *

Sixty floors below, Clark walked out of the lobby of Gotham Broadcasting and out into the bright March sunshine. The temperature was in the low-fifties and the first hints of spring could be felt. Around him, the city buzzed with life and laughter.

It reminded him of Metropolis. Neither as glittery nor as polished but just as vibrant. He walked down O'Neill Boulevard until he reached a wide-open square. In the very center of the grassy area there was an elaborate fountain and sculpture. Three figures, carved from granite, were perched atop a broad basin filled with clear water. Birds danced on the edges.

The Wayne Monument. Lex had actually known the son.

Lex had known everyone.

_You will know what to do._

Clark had to make a change. Metropolis was over for him. Too many lost horizons there.

Lana was a great shoulder to lean on but she really needed to get a life of her own.

He refused to run home and burden his mother; she had enough to do running Kent's-On-The-Green, the B&B she had started up.

No, he needed to finally let go. It was time.

_Haunting eyes. My own show. A new start. _

With a silent prayer of thanks, he turned around and headed back towards the GBS building; his stride confident, the possibilities boundless...

* * *

END of 'Kaleidoscope: Green'

This story will continue...


	2. Cerulean

KALEIDOSCOPE

Chapter Two: Cerulean

By: EscapeToCity

GOTHAM

Alan Scott couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried.

Molly lay next to him in blissful slumber. He watched her giggle...more of her wonderfully vivid dreams, he mused to himself.

He should have been dreaming as well. The day had gone exceptionally well. Donna Troy's newest campaign pitch was finally down-to-earth. No togas, no flights of fancy. A simple yet colorful presentation to showcase the Fall season. GBS was in a solid second place position in the ratings and the new ads should keep it there, if not spur some improvement.

Lunch at the Iceberg had been fun and relaxing. Eccentric old Cobblepot was showcasing his new afternoon 'performers'—a trio of polar bears dancing across the ice, surrounded by Vegas-style showgirls. Oswald certainly had a dramatic flair.

Molly assured him that the new kid would work out fine. Alan trusted her judgment and knew as well that Clark Kent would be the perfect host for the new show.

Something nagged at him nonetheless...

He knew Clark had been involved with the late Lex Luthor. Knew that Kent was a powerful metahuman who, for whatever reason, declined to use his gifts.

Alan wasn't worried that Clark was some villain. He'd examined his past—long ago, the kid had saved countless people from peril. He had single-handedly kept Lex Luthor on the straight and narrow and that was no small feat. He just wondered if he could handle the intense pressure of network television.

Alan felt a hand clasp his—

"Don't worry, honey, it'll be fine."

Alan winced. "I'd hoped not to wake you."

Molly rose a bit, smiling. "It's the perfect time for a cup of coffee, don't you think?"

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Coffee and some reassurance, dear."

Alan and Molly went out onto the patio and looked out over the city. Gotham was a marvelous place by night, the polished gargoyles and steeples coming alive in the glow.

"Remember how it used to be? People were afraid to walk during the day."

"Of course I remember."

"You changed all that, Alan. You made this city a place to be proud of."

"I wasn't alone in that. You helped. And Dinah and Ted. Selina. Barbara & Richard. So many others."

"All of us contributed. But you made it happen."

After the Wayne murders, Alan had tired of the endless back and forth with the criminal community. He, like many others, had thought the justice system was enough to manage the problems. But the horrifying crime rate, coupled with the inept and corrupt Dent administration, had pushed him to take action. As Green Lantern, he had purged the city of vice and misery through sheer willpower. Using one of the most powerful tools in the universe, his ring, and the magic of the Starheart, Alan had transformed Gotham into a center for jobs, peace, and prosperity.

He often wondered if he had done the right thing. He struggled frequently with his decision to simply make people change. But as he looked out onto the streets and saw couples walking safely, and clean parks, and safe, sleeping children, he knew it had helped.

"Might as well stay up. I've got a workout in two hours. Ted's such a stickler about gym time."

Molly squeezed Alan's shoulder. "Ted keeps everybody in great shape, honey. And don't think I don't appreciate him for that."

He turned to her, kissing her tenderly.

"Jennie called."

"How is she? How's Henry?"

"They're fine. Alan, she called about Todd."

Alan's expression shifted to one of concern--

"Is he alright? Has she spoken to him?"

"She hasn't heard from him in two weeks. She can't sense him anymore; their psychic bond is gone. She thinks something might've happened to him. I'm afraid, Alan."

"So am I. I've been trying to use the ring to locate him but I come up with nothing."

Molly frowned. "You don't think he's blocking you with his powers, do you?"

Alan shrugged. "I don't know. The last time we talked he said he had stopped using them. But the darkness has always pulled on him. You know that."

"Iris still swears she saw him in Central City. At the museum re-opening."

This worried Alan intensely. "I thought we were through with all that."

"I'm not sure we ever will be, dear. Todd wants so desperately to erase the past. He thinks Barry's machine could help him."

"Fifty thousand dollars in therapy couldn't? That damn machine wasn't meant for anyone except speedsters. Even then it's dangerous! Why can't Todd just grow up and deal with his life?!?" Alan shook his head, instantly regretting his words. "I didn't mean that, Molly. Honestly, I didn't."

Molly hugged him sympathetically—

"I know. If I could create an illusion for Todd, an illusion of a happy childhood, of people who loved him, believe that I would. I'd do anything for Todd and Jennie-Lynn, Alan. I couldn't love them more if they had been my natural born kids."

"I know. Another reason why I love you so much."

"I think it might be time to try to contact Jack Knight's nocturnal buddy..."

"He is an expert on the Shadowlands. If anyone's seen Todd, it would be him."

"I'll make the call as soon as my meetings are over tomorrow."

"Everything will be fine, Alan. Promise."

"I love you."

Alan and Molly held hands and continued to gaze out over the field of lights.

METROPOLIS

Clark Kent was dreaming. Lex was there and he was lying on the floor and Clark was scared but frozen in place. The room was orange and far too bright and he heard a buzzing noise that rolled and rolled through his head.

Lex was dying.

"Don't die," Clark screamed but no words came from his lips. It was as if he was there but not, trapped between spaces or memories or both.

He saw Lionel standing in a corner, brandy decanter falling from his hands, the crystal shattering on the floor; Lionel cackling like some evil wizard from a doomed fairy tale.

"You never were fast enough, young Kent. Not fast enough to save your father, not fast enough to save Lex. What a pity."

Clark began to cry and Lex was disintegrating now, his skin and bones and teeth and eyes melting into the plush carpet, once orange now the color of blood. Clark screamed and the room turned dark and everything felt terribly cold...

Suddenly—

He felt warm and comforted and in the no pitch-black nothingness he saw a pair of eyes shining. He wasn't afraid of them; they held no fear. If anything, they represented comfort and understanding.

He'd seen these eyes before.

"Who are you? Please talk to me. Please."

The eyes blinked, changing color from brown to blue then to green.

"Who are you?"

A smile appeared; a set of perfectly formed teeth; it was a smile of greeting.

"Speak to me, please!"

The eyes and smile vanished—

A deep voice rumbled gently through the air...

"_Don't miss your flight_."

--And the cold returned and Clark was thrown down and down and down.

He awoke abruptly, covered in sweat, unsure of anything.

He glanced towards the window.

The sun was rising.

His flight to Gotham left in three hours.

END of "Cerulean"

This story will continue.


	3. Scarlet

KALEIDOSCOPE

Chapter Three: Scarlet

By: EscapeToCity

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. They are the property of DC Comics, Time Warner, etc.

Notes: Iris West Allen is the widow of the 'Silver Age' Flash, Barry Allen. She is the aunt of the current Flash, Wally West and grandmother of Bart Allen, Kid Flash. Albert "Al" Rothstein is the hero known as Atom Smasher.

* * *

GBS/STELLAR STUDIOS

GOTHAM CITY

"Welcome back to 'Kaleidoscope.' I'm speaking with Iris West Allen, author of the new book _The Life Story of the Flash_. Thank you for staying on another segment, Mrs. Allen."

"Iris, Clark. I'm not _that_ old."

The audience laughed.

"Iris, you write in your book about Barry Allen the hero. What was he like as a man? As a husband?"

"He was a man who tried his best to do the right thing everyday. He was a genuinely considerate and compassionate man. He loved his fellow citizen and had the utmost respect for the law."

"You have written in-depth about the infamous 'Zoom' trial in which he was accused—later acquitted-- of murder. What was that time like for him?"

"Well...it was terrible for him and our family...unfortunately, I wasn't around for the bulk of it—"

"--your time travel experiences—"

"Yes...I've had the opportunity to 'bounce' around a bit in time and space. Not always by choice...I think the point, Clark, is that no matter the situation or trial, Barry faced his problems and dealt with them. He did not shy from his responsibilities. He had a destiny and he fulfilled it. How many of us can say the same?"

"I've been speaking with Iris West Allen about her new book. We'll be right back after this short commercial break."

The stage lights eased a bit and Iris stood, clasping Clark's hand...

"You're doing fine."

"Thanks."

Clark wasn't so certain. He was worried he might look 'green' on-air. He didn't want to look like an idiot. It was important to him that he performed well. Mr. Scott had high expectations for the show.

"Barry would've liked you. Maybe you can come down to Keystone City sometime for dinner? My nephew Wally and his wife Linda are great cooks."

"Thank you for the invitation, Iris. I will definitely think about it. I do need to meet new people. That's very kind of you."

"Alan made a good choice, Clark. Make this show as great as you can. And don't look so sad...you're an attractive, successful young man. Enjoy life. Make it work for you. There's always time for new beginnings. Always."

* * *

Clark sat in the studio cafeteria and listened to the chatter around him. He wasn't social like he once was and large crowds now made him somewhat uneasy.

Lex had adored crowds.

"Great show, Kent. _Fabulous_! You're gonna be a star!"

Snapper Carr was head publicist for the network and a complete fake. Air kisses and endless gossip. But that was his job. Clark just grinned painfully and begged out of conversation, heading to the washroom.

He stood in front of the mirror for a long while, staring at his reflection. He wasn't aging; the body still perfect, the face unlined, the tan still rich and dark. He wished his could age. Age brought a sense of comfort and maturity.

Age brought weakness, it introduced physical limits, and boundaries. His powers were more pronounced now than ever. That was one of the reasons he generally refused to use them.

The state of the world was not his responsibility.

He used his gifts now only to help his mother out. To drive new fence posts or plow the few remaining fields at the farm. To paint the barn or repair the plumbing at Kent's-On-The-Green.

Martha Kent would smile and bring him lemonade. They would talk at length about nothing important; the latest movie or a pair of shoes she had bought.

He liked the way his mother looked on her porch, her rapidly graying hair swept to the side, her wrinkled hands turning the pages of a book. Her eyes wistful and glad to have seen such a full life. She still missed his father, of course.

He thought about his father every minute.

* * *

"You were great with Clark, Iris."

"He's a good kid, Alan. Very professional. Where's Molly?"

"She's at happy hour with Mayor Gordon. She should be back in a bit. I know she wants to catch up with you. Drink?"

He handed his old friend a cup of tea. Iris walked over, standing near the windows.

"Iris...is everything alright?"

"He was there, Alan. Jay thinks so, too. One minute we're up on stage about to cut the ribbon for the museum addition and the next thing we know, the power has gone out—"

"It could've been the Rogues—"

"No, Alan. There was no _cash _on hand. It had to have been someone with immense power. All of the sudden people were frozen in place. Everything faded and shadowed. Jay tried to vibrate himself around to free them but to no avail. Then, in the darkness, we saw the cosmic treadmill come on...Alan, someone was trying to go back in time. You know I hate to say this but it probably was Todd."

Alan Scott put his head in his hands.

"We heard a voice, Alan. It was very quiet at first, then louder. Kept talking about saving the Thorn, standing up to Jim...defending himself. The voice broke down into sobs, Alan. Body _wracking _kind of sobs. And the room got _so _cold. It was horrible."

"Thorn...Jim..._damn_...and then what," Alan asked wearily...

"He obviously couldn't get the treadmill to work. Only Barry knew how to operate it correctly. Jay, Joan & I distinctly heard a voice say 'I'm so sorry' just before the lights came back up."

"I apologize, Iris."

"Apologize? It's not your fault. If it is Todd then we all have to figure a way to pull him out of this darkness. What about Jennie-Lynn? They have always been so close."

"She hasn't heard from him. Their bond has been severed. She's very upset."

"Damn, Alan. You tell her to keep her chin up. We'll figure _something _out...if I have to call in every favor from Star City to Themyscira, I will.

"I really appreciate your help, seriously."

"Todd's part of the next generation. I don't want to see any of the children of my friends in pain. You've got to have hope, Alan. One thing I have learned in all my different timelines and bodies and experiences is that everything does have a way of righting itself. I've seen the future—you must keep fighting to make things right."

* * *

The day he died the sky had been a shade of red Clark had only seen in his visions, in the memories imprinted upon him by the ship. Red like blood, orange like lava, layered and deep. Alive.

Alive, like his father wasn't.

Clark tried not to get stuck in these thoughts. He had a great new job and apartment. A view of the river and a balcony to watch stars from. He was seemingly immortal. Healthy and handsome. He should've been happy.

At night though, when the sun vanished and the wind settled and he slept alone, the tears would fall onto the linen. He would often reach for the body he knew wasn't there, and often he found himself calling out his name.

There would be no reply. _Ever._

This night Clark decided to sleep out on the balcony. It was chilly out but the cold didn't affect him and the sky was clear. Brubaker Lane was still; only a solitary cat hunted for scraps. He'd chosen the apartment in part because of the serene, tree-lined street and family atmosphere. It seemed a happy, stable place; an urban sort of Smallville.

He thought of how Lex would kiss him for hours, lying in the bed. The smell of faded cologne and mint and the lightest hint of sweat. They would make love on the floor, by the door, after four in the morning with the TV on and Lex crowing like a rooster. Clark remembered guiding Lex past the bad nights, the long ones, too much liquor or a repressed idea or memory. Memories of Lionel and sadness.

Clark would always get him through. Up until....

There wasn't much point in thinking about that.

He closed his eyes and hoped for a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"How was Barbara?"

"Fine."

"Good."

"It was great to see Iris. She looks great. Showed me a picture of Bart—that boy is taller than she is! "Molly laughs, then turns serious, rubbing Alan's back "....honey, she told me about the mess at the Flash Museum."

"Me too."

"We've got to do something."

Alan pulled her into a tight embrace, then kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"I made a call, Molly. We're about to do _something _right now."

"What—"

As Molly spoke, a portal opened on the bedroom wall. Out from it walked an impeccably dressed figure with a top hat, ruffled collar, and polished cane.

"Ah, Alan & Molly Scott. You requested an audience?"

"Shade....all we want to know is where Todd is. If you've seen him..."

"Jack said your son had vanished once more. If my sources are correct he's drifting in the dark, Green Lantern. It shall take much more than your much lauded _'willpower' _to pull him back."

"All I want for him is to be safe."

"Alan, I don't believe he's in any danger. _Physical _danger, that is..."

* * *

Suddenly...

The air was frozen and he had a hard time breathing. His lungs hurt. Clark seemed to be floating but couldn't move.

_You are as empty as I am. You just have a better poker face._

Clark couldn't see anything. It felt like a nightmare; he could feel the biting wind in the nothingness burning his skin. The prickling sensation was strangely erotic...

"Who's there?"

The pressure shifted and Clark found it easier to breathe. He could move but there seemed nowhere to move to.

_You don't remember me? Look into my eyes._

Suddenly a pair of dazzling, haunted eyes was inches away from his and Clark stumbled back. He recalled every nightmare he'd ever had. In ten seconds he witnessed Krypton explode and Jor-El praying and Lara screaming and Lex die and Jonathan's final words and the picture on Alan Scott's desk--

"Who are you?!? What do you want from me?"

_I am forgotten. I am pain. I am yesterday's hopes....all I feel is regret. Albert tried—_

"Albert? Who's--"

--Al tried. To understand me. He tried to be what I needed. When he kissed me, I thought it was real. But it was only pity. My sister as well. They could never see how deep it goes. How pervasive the shadows are. I am so lonely....most people can't relate. He could. Your guy could. I knew Lex.

Clark reeled at this admission—

"What do you mean you knew him? Did you hurt him? Who the fuck are you?"

_There's no need to get upset, Clark. Calm yourself. This dimension will devour you if you allow it. And Lex is beyond any sort of hurt. All he knows is joy now. As for me, I am the Lord of Shadows; this is my realm. I see people's inner fear and anger. Their pain flows through my body. Your lover had many fears and overwhelming anger. Never towards you, of course. Towards his father, himself, even at times, his mother. But never you. I've had issues with fathers myself._

The picture on the desk. The eyes. He knew who this must be.

"You're Alan's--"

A man materialized from the dark veil; the brown eyes now framed by a proud, sculpted face. Wavy, cinnamon-hued hair fell to below the ears. A stubborn chin and an elegant neck; his strong, rippling body sheathed in some sort of leather-like navy material, accented here and there with sparkling round gems. Even more handsome than his father.

He drew up close to Clark, whispering in his ear. He smelt of ozone and ice and fresh clay.

"I am Obsidian. Welcome to the Shadowlands."

END of 'Scarlet'

This story will continue...

* * *

Post-story notes: Obsidian is Todd Rice, son of Alan Scott, the Golden Age Green Lantern. Alan did not meet Todd until he was 18, due to manipulations by Alan's first wife, the psychotic Thorn. After Alan was reunited with Todd (and his twin sister Jennie-Lynn), Thorn reappeared in their lives. She killed herself in front of them. Todd has serious emotional issues, which is why I am using him in this story. His adoptive dad, Jim Rice, physically abused him. He has always had a rather ambiguous sexual identity. For those who are interested, check out any issue of "Infinity, Inc." comic series for more on Todd. The Shade is an awesome old-school DC villain/anti-hero; he enjoyed a great role in the "Starman" series of the late-90s/early-2000s.

-JB


	4. Obsidian

KALEIDOSCOPE

Chapter Four: Obsidian

By: EscapeToCity

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. They are the property of DC Comics, Time Warner, etc.

Notes: Todd Rice is the son of Alan Scott, the Golden Age Green Lantern (later known as Sentinel).

* * *

THE SHADOWLANDS

"I don't want to be here."

"No one does, Clark. We just end up here. Everyone."

"What exactly is this place?"

"It's where the harsh reality of living confronts you. Where dreams come to die. Where there are no seasons, no time, no laughter. This is the truth behind the illusions."

Clark looked around him. What had been a black nothingness now swirled in faded shades of purple, black, gray and tan. There seemed to be faces drifting in and out of the mists. He still felt terribly cold.

"What do you want from me?"

A pause.

"Conversation."

"You want to talk?"

"Yes. I want someone to understand me. You're different. You're a freak, by their standards. I've seen what you can do. You have no secrets here. And that's fine. I'm obviously strange and unusual myself. I thought you could relate to me."

He knew his secrets. Hell, this Obsidian guy probably knew everyone's business—

"I do. And that is a curse. Never escaping from people's desires and whims and lies....the terrible lies that they live under, that they tell to control and ruin—"

"Why are you so negative? Not everything is dark."

"Really? Let me show you my soul..."

And Clark was sucked into a place he could never quite describe or really perceive but could certainly feel. Deceit and anger and a pervasive sense of dread. An eternity of nightmares. His skin was freezing and he heard Obsidian's voice—

"I won't hurt you."

--And he was lying on warm soil, still surrounded by the swirling darkness. Obsidian's body lay behind him, his hand stroking his back.

"Please let me go home. I can't deal with this."

"You can. You're so strong."

And without struggle, Clark found himself in a deep kiss, a tongue exploring his mouth. He didn't want to kiss back but he found himself falling into the strong arms, the pleading golden brown eyes searing into his.

"I am so lonely."

"I am too. But I can't handle this place..."

"It's too dark for you."

"Yes."

"But you've danced with darkness before, Clark. He was consumed by it. Lex's understanding of all this rivaled even mine."

"But I helped him fight it, Obsidian. And he succeeded."

_Did he, Clark? Did he?_

Small points of light began to appear all around the space. Obsidian began to recede from Clark, who tentatively reached for the gloved hand.

For the first time, Clark saw the handsome face smile.

"I won't keep you, Clark. Please remember."

Suddenly—

A whisper on the wind..._Remember._

Clark was awake, in his bed. The sun was out and the city throbbed below his window.

Obsidian was gone.

* * *

Alan had left for work early. He had been so tense lately; the new programming, Todd's dissapearance.

Molly poured herself some coffee and sat at the table, her eyes glancing over the rack of family pictures.

Jennie-Lynn, smiling as always.

Todd. His gaze pointed downward.

Todd. The son she wished were her natural born.

She'd watched him since he was eighteen. A hero for a few years, then a wayward drifter. She'd tried her best to cheer him up. She'd created illusions of friends and college parties. Straight A's and good dreams.

A few years back he'd fallen into a dark depression; at first they thought drugs or drink. Later they found he was tapping deeper and deeper into his innate Shadow powers. He was addicted to the darkness.

Alan had brought him back from that; he'd found him in Metropolis living at a place called Club Zero. Todd was strung out on his powers, feeding off the disaffected youth of the City of Tomorrow. He had not wanted to come home.

It took much of Alan's willpower, along with some pleading from Jennie before Todd would relent. After that, things seemed easier. For a time.

For a time.

Jennie moved west with her husband. Todd couldn't seem to find a job he cared about. Maybe she and Alan were too preoccupied with the network. Maybe he just fell through the cracks.

Now they were right back where they started.

Molly put her head in her hands. They had to find him, help him.

The Shade knew he was in the Shadowlands but even he lacked the power to force him back into reality. He suggested Todd was more powerful than ever.

* * *

"Morning, Clark. Congrats on another great show, son."

"I didn't come to talk about 'Kaleidoscope', Mr. Scott. I came to talk about your son."

Alan dropped his coffee, silently damning his loss of willpower...

"Todd...do you know him, Clark."

"I think I met him last night in a dream."

Alan froze in place. If Todd was trapping people through dreams again, then things might be much worse than he feared. He motioned to Clark to sit down.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No. He told me he was lonely. I won't lie, I _was_ afraid. But somehow I knew he didn't mean to hurt me."

"Todd's a complicated person."

"No joke. I've seen a lot of _interesting_ things, Mr. Scott, but I've never had my dreams hijacked by some sort of Shadow-person. Is he even human?"

"Yes....he can be. He has powers which allow him to literally become a shadow. He can read minds and emotions. Recently he's developed power over a nether-region known as the Shadowlands. A kind of separate dimension."

"Mr. Scott...I know he's your son but what am I supposed to do about this. I'm freaked out. What does he want with me?"

Alan reached over and squeezed Clark's shoulder, trying to reassure him.

"Todd's not evil, Clark. He's very confused and...well...unstable. But I promise he won't hurt you."

"How can you promise that? It seems to me you don't know your own son or what he's capable of."

Alan winced. "I deserve that, I do. I wasn't there to protect Todd as a boy and I am paying for it now."

"You didn't raise him?"

"Clark, it's a long story. I didn't discover I had children until they were eighteen years old. Their mother was presumed dead. I had mourned and moved on. Then this miracle. I was so proud of both of them. Jennie-Lynn and Todd. My children. Talented children, smart children. Everything Molly & I could have wanted. But you know, Clark, life rarely goes as planned."

"Your daughter seems fine."

"She had a different childhood. She and Todd were split up at birth. She was raised in privilege and with love. Todd...he was...he was raised by an alcoholic who could become violent."

"He was abused?"

"Yes. Viciously. Daily."

Clark felt awful. He'd known someone like this before. He took a deep breath.

"What can I do to help, Alan?"

Alan looked towards the window.

"Talk to him. Try to draw him out of the shadows. Be honest with him. Don't let him repeat his love for the shadows. Confront him with the light. Be his friend, if you can."

"I can try. But I'm not even sure he'll be back."

"All we can do is hope, son. You don't know how much I appreciate your help. If there's any chance that you can save him, Clark, please...._please_, help us."

* * *

There was a place he'd forgotten but tried to remember. She had red hair like his. No, not like his. It was blonde and then there was here and she smiled and everything was good. It was warm. Hot even. And he liked it and there was light all around. There was candy and cake and they danced in circles around the green tree.

No. There was no candy. She had green hair or maybe black. Blonde man was gone and he cried. A fire. The present? Perhaps the past. Often it was hard. Hard to remember which dreams were his. Lex had been different. Lex was his friend. He came upstairs at Zero when it was too bright and always made me laugh and brought truth and licorice. He was good. They were bad. Stop.

He wanted to hold onto then. There. Before his father killed him and I could do nothing to stop it. I wanted to, needed to, so badly wanted to reach out and choke the life out of Lionel.

_But there was too much sunlight and I was stuck on the wall._

Better to forget after that. Only friend dead and love destroyed. Watching Clark in his room, I want to hold him, want to tell him everything will be alright but it won't. I had promised to protect Lex and look what happened. Happened. Dead. They all die. Will I die? Hope so. So cold and ugly here. I am cold. I am ugly. And they won't stop watching. The little eyes like rock candy and the arms that cling to me. Demons or lies or whatever. Clark looks so sad but I scare him and he's can't handle me and I can't believe and everything I know is gone. Want to bleed, want to cry but no fluid left. Nothing. Nothing moist. Frozen and windswept and bleached out and fucked. But this is my life and it's hilariously pathetic and I remember her now, my mother. Rose/Thorn/Psycho whore. I remember she stabbed herself and the blood ran down the pavement like Lex's ran from his mouth. And bubbles. Amazing. There were bubbles. And I tried to breathe through his lungs but shadows don't have oxygen so he died. And I climbed in the box and talked to the maggots and they laughed at me so I sent them to hell.

I hope he isn't in hell. The Phantom Stranger wouldn't tell me. The Devil himself denied me information.

And Clark is still afraid. And I miss Jennie and Molly and Dad because they tried. Tried in vain. They don't understand I am just raw and bad and dark. Hard like licorice rock candy and gone. Gone. They kept trying, keep trying, reading my mind and giving me medicine and soothing me with fantasies. There is no fantasy. I am the darkness, unrepentant and alone. I don't want to be. I want it. I want to see the sun. Sweat under it. Lie on a beach. I think I remember what those were like. He's like the sun, a living solar battery.

_But would he burn me?_

END of

'Obsidian'

This story will continue...


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